


Periods Can SUCK MY DICK

by thebestever222



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Gen, JEFFERSON BEING A-OKAY WITH TRANS PEOPLE RESTORES MY FAITH IN HUMANITY, Oh also, also theres slight jefferson/madison, i was feeling some type of way, idk why i wrote this, like real slight, tjeff is probably out of character but I NEED THIS OKAY, trans male character(s), washington and martha are mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-13
Updated: 2018-04-13
Packaged: 2019-04-22 13:04:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14309259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebestever222/pseuds/thebestever222
Summary: Ham is not okay. He finds an ally where he least expects it.





	Periods Can SUCK MY DICK

This is officially the worst day of Alexander Hamilton’s life.

What kind of madness is this? There is blood pouring out _from between his legs_ , and he has no idea what to do. He knows this is some weird female body thing that he doesn’t understand because he never paid attention in health class, but it isn’t his fault everything discussed about female puberty in that class made him feel like a girl. He should have asked Martha to explain it to him. She would have been able to say it in a way that made him feel normal, because Martha was always good like that.

But Martha’s not here right now. Right now, he’s all alone in the boys’ bathroom at school, sitting on a toilet in a locked stall during his lunch period with his legs clamped together like it’ll somehow magically stop the bleeding. He wants to cry, can feel the lump in his throat that he can barely swallow around, can feel the tears welling in his eyes, and he feels so gross and girly and _dammit, Alex, don’t you cry._

He sniffles, dabs at his eyes, and tries to breathe normally while he thinks of a way to fix this. He needs to figure out a way to get to Washington’s room without bleeding entirely through his pants. If he can just get to Washington’s room, everything will be alright. Washington can fix anything. He fixed Alex’s life after his mother passed away. He fixed _Alex_ after his mother passed away. Washington will be able to fix this. Alex just has to get to him.

God, where is his quick wit when he needs it? There are so many feelings and emotions buzzing around in his brain, and his head and lower back are aching for some unfathomable reason. He’s shaking and sobbing – _dammit_ – and he’s pretty sure he’s going to be sick, when the sound of the door opening floods the bathroom and footsteps follow.

Alex holds his breath, tries to quiet his sobs, but he isn’t fast enough, evidently, because the person pauses and asks, “Uh, are you okay in there?”

And if it isn’t Thomas _fucking_ Jefferson of all people. Out of everyone who could have stumbled upon Alex in this state, it just had to be him. Alex feels like crying even more, because _of course_ the universe just had to do this to him, make this day even worse than it already was.

He doesn’t answer, even when Jefferson stops in front of his stall, because he knows that if he does, Jefferson will recognize him immediately – because what other boy has a voice so _girly_ – and wouldn’t that be just wonderful? To get caught crying in the bathroom by his worst enemy?

But Jefferson doesn’t move. His feet remain in front of the stall, like he’s waiting for Alex to say something, and it makes a sudden anger flare up in Alex. What right does Jefferson think he has, standing there being all patient? He’s being nice now, when he doesn’t know it’s Alex on the other side of the door, acting like he’s the good guy, and it pisses Alex off. So, despite the fact that Alex knows that it’s irrational and that he should really just be quiet, he blurts out, “Just go the fuck away, Jefferson. Leave me alone.”

“Hamilton?” Jefferson asks, sounding shocked, and Alex feels like he knows what’s coming next, and he wishes he had just kept his mouth shut, because now Jefferson is going to yell at him or poke fun at him, and it’s never bothered him before, but Alex suddenly feels like he could cry just at the thought of it, and it makes him so angry, but he doesn’t know what to do about it, and there are tears welling in his eyes again and the lump in his throat has returned with a vengeance and his breath is coming in short gasps and there’s still blood gushing between his legs and he somehow feels less than human because of it and _god what is wrong with him what is wrong with him **there is something wrong with him.**_

“Jesus Christ, Hamilton, fucking _breathe_.”

Alex tries to take deep breaths, runs his hands through his hair, tries to focus on slowing his heartbeat instead of focusing on the blood flowing out of him.

“What the hell happened to you?” Jefferson asks.

“Like you’d ever fucking understand,” Alex replies, but he can’t really tell if he’s angry or not anymore. Bitterly, he adds, “It’s a _girl_ thing.”

There’s a pause before Jefferson asks hesitantly, “You’re a girl?”

“ _No_ ,” Alex says forcefully.

Another pause. “So you mean it’s a _trans_ thing?”

Alex is a little shocked that Jefferson even knows what that word means. “Yeah, a trans thing.”

“Is it…?” Jefferson’s quiet for a moment, and Alex can hear him rustling around in his backpack. “Do you need pads?”

Alex has to think for a moment. “Are those the things that go in your underwear…?”

Alex feels a bit indignant when Jefferson attempts to stifle a chuckle. “Yeah, Hamilton.”

“Why do you have them?” Alex asks as Jefferson slide two pads wrapped in blue packaging – thank _god_ it’s not pink. “Are you…?”

“No,” Jefferson says, “I just have a bo… a friend who needs pads but never remembers to bring them.”

“Oh.” Alex wonders if Jefferson’s “friend” is trans like him, but he doesn’t ask because Jefferson might answer, and Alex isn’t sure if this person is okay with Jefferson giving out that information.

Alex isn’t sure if he’s supposed to put both of the pads on or not, but he decides his underwear will have a better chance of surviving the trip to Washington’s room if he uses two instead of just one.

By the time he’s finally ready to leave the stall, lunch is almost over, but Alex is sure he can still make it to Washington in time. He’ll have to sacrifice eating, but it’s a sacrifice he’s more than willing to make.

When he opens the door, he wipes at his eyes so Jefferson won’t see his tears – as if it weren’t already obvious that he was crying. Jefferson doesn’t say anything about it, and Alex is kind of glad, because he’s sure he would have started crying again if Jefferson did.

“This doesn’t mean we’re friends, Jefferson,” Alex says as they leave the bathroom. He hates that what he’s about to say is to _Jefferson_ , but he’ll feel bad if he doesn’t say it at all. “But thanks for that. I… didn’t know what to do.” The admittance of ignorance feels odd coming out of his mouth, and he hopes it sounds sincere.

“Yeah, whatever, Hamilton,” Jefferson says, shrugging.

“Well, I have to get to Washington’s room before my next class,” Alex says, but it doesn’t feel as urgent as it did ten minutes ago. He’s embarrassed to admit it, but Jefferson really did help with calming him down about the whole bleeding situation.

“What are you going to Washington’s for?”

“Well, at first I was going to see if he could call Martha to come pick me up,” Alex explains as they walk, “but now I might just ask him for an aspirin or something to get me through the rest of the day.”

“What, are you his kid or something?” Jefferson asks with a chuckle.

“Um, yeah?” Alex replies. “He’s been my legal guardian for almost three years now.”

“Shit, really?” Jefferson looks surprised, and Alex gets the feeling he’s saying too much.

“I’m literally with him all the fucking time, and you couldn’t figure that out?” Alex says with an eye roll.

“Well, I don’t fucking know,” Jefferson says, crossing his arms. “You seem like the teacher’s pet type.”

“Shut up, I am not. He’s my dad.” Alex realizes after the statement leaves his mouth that he’s never actually said it out loud before, but it’s true. Washington is more his father than the asshole that left him ever was.

Jefferson doesn’t say anything at first, and maybe he would have eventually, but they’re interrupted.

“Thomas, where were you?” a voice says. “We were supposed to have lunch together.”

Alex identifies the speaker as a small, vaguely familiar kid with short hair, and instant recognition lights up Jefferson’s face.

“Oh, shit,” Jefferson says, running a hand through his hair. “Sorry, Jemmy. Something came up.”

Jefferson glances at Alex, and the stranger seems to only just notice that Jefferson is not alone.

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t realize you were there,” the kid says, seeming embarrassed.

“It’s fine,” Alex says with a wave of his hand, “I’m going anyway.” He turns to the other boy beside him. “Jefferson.”

“Hamilton.” Jefferson nods, and then Alex is off. Behind him, he can still hear the two’s conversation.

“Hamilton? Isn’t that the guy you hate?”

“Well, you know what they say, Jemmy; ‘Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.’”

“Yeah, right. More like, ‘Thomas Jefferson is a big softie, and not even his enemies are safe from his random acts of kindness.’”

The rest of their chatter gets lost as Alex gets closer to Washington’s room. Alex is pretty sure he never would have but the words “Thomas Jefferson” and “softie” in the same sentence yesterday, but now he’s not exactly sure how to peg Jefferson anymore after that incident. As he enters Washington’s classroom with a pounding headache and the feeling of something sticking to his thighs, he thinks that there is really only one thing he knows for certain anymore: periods fucking suck.


End file.
